The Passing of Mother
The day my mother passed- I was shattered,
I found myself wandering in a trance;
my sister had to hold my hand like a child,
there was an emptiness deep within me.
I was screaming inside- but she was too young God,
it is so unfair God, why my mother;
did you really need another angel that bad,
yes, I was angry and I was broken.
My sister and I planned the wake and memorial,
and I think we did an amazing job of it;
we selected a rose pink dress for mother to wear,
and we both agreed she looked beautiful.
(but I will never forget the smell of those pink roses)
We stood holding hands as visitors arrived,
and held back tears keeping our frozen smiles;
we thought it would never end but it finally did,
then, we were left alone with mother.
and we wept . . .
For she was the best mother to us every single day,
loving us no matter what stupid thing we did;
welcoming us home with open arms from failed love,
and how can we ever forget that beautiful smile.
She was loved by all who had ever met her,
at her memorial people waited in long lines;
to pay their respects for my mother- my best friend,
and still I am broken because I miss her . . .
every moment of every day . . .
____________________________
December 9, 2019
Poem/Narrative/The Passing of Mother
Copyright Protected ID 10-1206-515-02
All Rights Reserved. Written under Pseudonym.
Written for the contest, Memorial of a Loved One
sponsor, Chantelle Anne Cooke
Second Place
Copyright © Constance La France | Year Posted 2019
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